


The Charitable Mr Malfoy

by Hildigunnur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on a movie plot, Consensual Infidelity, Drama, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-19
Updated: 2005-10-19
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hildigunnur/pseuds/Hildigunnur
Summary: Ron and his wife, Hermione Weasley, are running out of money. It is post war and not only have their closest friends and family all died, but Hermione is pregnant and the two already have three kids at home, one of whom needs a very costly operation to live. Suddenly, Draco Malfoy enters into the scene when Ron is drinking in a bar, drowning in his sorrows after yet another row with his wife. And he makes the Weasley an offer that is very difficult to refuse. 500,000 galleons for one night... (Very loosely based on the movie Indecent Proposal).





	The Charitable Mr Malfoy

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015.
> 
> Written for rwdmfqf on LJ in 2003 or 2004. Based on a request Mamalaz did. My thanks to queenriley for the beta.

The people of London were enjoying an unusually nice summer evening. The streets were bustling with a lively crowd. Some were just taking an evening walk, others were out for a night on the town.

A young redheaded man was walking through the throng of people. He was neither out for an evening walk nor a night out. He probably would end up in bar, to drown his sorrows. Not that he would be inclined to call them sorrows. More like the shitty hand of cards fate had dealt him. There he was, twenty-five years old, poorer then ever before in his life, with many mouths to feed and with most of his family six feet under. At the moment, he wasn't even welcomed at his house for his wife had just thrown him out in what he felt was a pregnancy-induced fit of hormonal rage. This was true even though Hermione had a good reason to be angry at him. He had just accepted the excuse that his boss gave him for not paying him this week without any protest.

He knew he would be able to return home in few hours though he wished he could just have stayed home to help get the kids to bed. Now he had to find some pub, buy one drink because he couldn't afford more and try to make it last for few hours. Normally he stuck to Muggle pubs but tonight he was thirsty for Firewhisky which wasn't a common commodity there. He would have to brave a Wizards pub which he tended to avoid, mostly because they brought painful memories.

Then he remembered that a new establishment had just opened in one of the side alleys from Diagon Alley. Turning on his heel, he snuck behind a dustbin and Disapparated away from the Muggle street.  
The interior of the pub was somewhat more sophisticated than he was used to. After getting one Firewhisky, absolutely undiluted, he sat down in a dark corner. While sipping tiny sips to make the drink last longer, he wished he would be able to get properly trashed. So he would forget his responsibilities in life and all the loved ones he had lost. It was fucking painfully simply to let the mind slightly wander in direction of them. His entire family, parents, brothers and sister. His best friend and just about everybody else. Except Hermione. At the moment he wasn't sure if he could feel grateful for even that. Yes, he loved her and their children but at times like this, when life grinded on him hard, he wished that he would have died with Harry. Gone fighting evil and still have conquered. In his heart he knew that there was something beyond death and it had to be better than what he currently had.

With every little sip from his drink, his shoulders slumped further down.

 

Draco threw his cloak over the back of a chair. He had entered the premises through the back entrance. It was his pub after all. A pub he had opened on a whim, just because he could. There were so many things that he could that most others couldn't. He had money, they didn't. And money got him almost anywhere and bought him almost anything.

It wasn't a busy night, they were rare. In a way it was like the whole Wizarding World had stopped longing for a good time. Or it might be because so many had died. It wasn't something that Draco lingered on. Being depressed was bad for business.

Skimming the place, he mostly saw regular customers. And a redhead. An extremely familiar redhead. Matter of fact, it was Ron Weasley. What had brought him here? Last thing he had know of Weasley was that he and Granger were all shacked up and busy populating the earth. Something that had seemed the natural course of action for Weasley.

Not able to suppress the urge just to see the look on his face when he would meet an old foe, Draco strode over Weasley's table.

"Long time, no see." Weasley snapped his head up and Draco was looking into blue eyes full of perplexed annoyance. The ginger eyebrows furrowed as he recognized the speaker.

"Malfoy," he spat.

"Ah, I see your manners haven't changed, Weasley."

"Go away."

"That might prove difficult since this is my pub," Draco said as he drew out a chair and sat down across the table from Ron.

"So is bothering paying customers good for business?"

"You hardly merit as a paying customer, Weasley, with your single shot of our cheapest Firewhisky." Weasley shot him a dirty look and gripped his shot glass as if he had considered throwing it at Draco but thought better of it.

"I hear that you're doing your best not to make the noble name of Weasley die out." He was just begging for some taunting.

"Please-refrain-from-mentioning-my-family," Ron hissed through his teeth. "If you want to keep your internal organs intact."

"Calm down, I didn't mean to offend you. I just wanted to know if indeed you had become a father." Ron looked suspiciously at Draco.

"Stop taking the piss, I'm not in the mood. As if you wanted to hear about me and my family. I thought we represented everything you think it's wrong in the world today. Pureblood Muggle-lovers tainting the Wizarding World with their halfblood offspring." Draco merely raised his eyebrows lazily. It looked like Weasley actually wanted to talk about his family. Even confide in someone.

"If that were the case which I'm not saying it is, wouldn't I want to know everything about you and your family? Know thy enemy or something like that." Weasley stared at him seemingly confused.

"Oh, come off it, Weasley. Talk if you need to. Tell me everything. To whom do you think I would betray your secrets?" Draco knew he didn't need to say anything further. Weasley knew as well as he that Potter's sacrificial death had brought such a blow to Dark Arts movements all over the world that it would take them decades to regroup. There were no longer any papers to sell juicy stories to either.

They sat in silence for a while. Draco knew it was just matter of time until Weasley would crack and in the meanwhile he was going to sit there and enjoy the view. Weasley wasn't bad looking, in fact he was downright handsome. He was of course still all lanky limbs, red hair and freckles but he carried his height with some kind of relaxed grace and the red hair and freckles contrasted deliciously against his blue eyes and cream-white skin.

Just as Draco was wondering if he could get Weasley to stand up so he could get a view of his rear (Draco had the feeling it was indeed a spectacular sight), Weasley began to talk.

As much as Draco has sensed Weasley's need to really open up, he hadn't be prepared for the extensiveness of what Weasley had to say. About how he and Granger fought nearly everyday, mostly because they were so stressed by money troubles and their kids. How much he missed his family and Potter. And of course how he couldn't believe he was telling him, his old enemy, all this. Draco just sat rooted to his chair, occasionally nodding and indicating that Weasley had his full attention. Some of this he knew. Like that Potter and the Weasley family were dead and that Weasley was carrying on the family tradition of having a big family. On the other hand, he hadn't known that they were so want for money (he had presumed that they had inherited Potter but that wasn't the case) or that Hermione was pregnant with twins.

"And I haven't even told you the worst part. The only part that makes me believe that I can't just keep up with it longer." Weasley's voice had grown thick and he was staring hard into the table. "My youngest son, Harry who is just barely one, he's ill. He's not expected to live till his second birthday." He stopped, his voice clearly failing him. Draco sat up a little straighter, feeling an unexplainable sting in his chest.

"They say he can be saved but ... that will cost money. Thousands and thousands of galleons. Money we don't have. And because of that, little Harry will die and I just know ... I can't watch the body of my child being ... lowered to the ground." The thickness in Weasley's voice had grown so heavy that he starting to sob. Draco didn't say anything but discreetly summoned a bottle of Odgen's Old Firewhisky to the table and fill Weasley's glass.

"Drink up, Weasley. I don't think that crying in the middle of my seedy pub will do you much good." Weasley obeyed him and downed the contents in one gulp. Draco filled up the glass again but Weasley didn't drink from it. He was staring, red-eyed, at Draco.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Listening to me, giving me drinks ... I don't want to sound rude, Malfoy but we've always hated each other." Draco couldn't help but chuckle. That was absolutely true, they had always hated each other. Yet now that everyone they had known was dead, even an old enemy was a comfort.

"Weasley, remember what it was we hated each other for? What's left of it now?" Weasley's eyes widened a bit.

"I suppose hardly anything is left," he then said in a slow voice.

"See, Weasley, you remind me of the old times and I like that. So much that I kind of want to help you more than just give a shot of Firewhisky. I've more money than I care to think of. I want to give you and your wife half a million galleons. Maybe you can save your little boy then." Draco made sure he was looking straight into Weasley's eyes which became narrow slits.

"I was sceptical before, Malfoy, but fuck, I'm not a complete idiot. You'll never get me to believe that you just randomly hand out huge sums of money merely from the kindness of your heart. You want something. Tell me." It was almost impossible for Draco to hide his glee. He almost had managed to bring back Weasley's old spirit. If he played the cards correctly, he would succeed.

"You'll have to spend one night with me," he answered in a husky voice and instinctively he closed his eyes, certain that Weasley would strike him. But the blow never came. Draco slowly opened his eyes and saw that Weasley was still staring directly at him with his eyes alight.

"I can't believe I'm saying this ... but I'll do anything for the life of my son. Malfoy, you have a deal." What? Hadn't Weasley realized that he had been pulling his leg? Draco didn't reject the idea right away though. After all, he had admitted to himself that Weasley was attractive and it had been awhile since someone half as interesting had warmed his bed

"And you don't think the missus would mind?" The light in Weasley's eyes dimmed at the question.

"I'll tell her if she asks. Best she wouldn't. So, your place now?" Draco snorted, it seemed that Weasley thought he would lose his nerve to go through with it if he didn't do it now.

"No, Weasley. Not now. I want my money's worth, I want a whole night and since its past midnight already, I think we'll have to do this at a later time. Besides, I want you well rested. So I suggest you go home now, get some rest and I'll owl you. All right?" Draco rose to his feet, gave Weasley a wink and turned on his heel. Even if Weasley would ultimately lose his nerve, this would be very interesting nevertheless.

 

Hermione felt the mattress dip as her husband crawled to bed. By cranking one eye open, she checked the time. Half past one in the morning. That was a bit later than usual. She closed her eyes again and waited for Ron to take her into his arms and snuggle against her like he used to when he came home late. That didn't happen but judging by his breath, he hadn't fallen asleep yet. By turning over, she was able to look at him. He was lying on his back, looking intent at the ceiling.

"Ron, is something wrong?"

"Oh, I didn't realize you were awake. No, there's nothing wrong."

"Why are you awake then?"

"Just ... can't sleep."

"You weren't drinking, were you?"

"Go back to sleep, Hermione. I'm okay." This didn't convince her at all but she knew Ron well enough to know when he wasn't ready to discuss things. It wasn't like he was completely carefree either. If the truth was to be told, she was relieved that she was pregnant because her body demanded sleep. Otherwise, she probably wouldn't be able to sleep at all. She moved closer to Ron and slowly the sleep reclaimed her. As she was hanging by the last thread of her consciousness, she felt a strong arm pulling her closer to a warm body. A hand touched her cheek softly and a quiet voice spoke few words into the darkness.

"I'll do it. For you and for Harry. For my family."

 

Never in his life had Ron waited so anxiously for a letter. Not even for his test score for the O.W.L.s and the N.E.W.T.s though Hermione's anxiety at that time had been extremely infectious. A voice in his head tried to convince him that this letter wasn't anything to look forward to but another always seemed to interfere and remind him that the sooner, the better, both for him and little Harry.

One week after meeting Malfoy in the pub, a large eagle owl swooped down on Ron just as he had exited his flat on the way to work. The owl was carrying a medium sized envelope, obviously made from the finest vellum so it was no mistake from whom it could be.

He opened the envelope, took out the piece of parchment and straightened it out. All it said was:

 

Tonight. Meet me at eight o'clock where we met last time. DM.

 

A set time. He let out a long breath. Tonight. Little notice but probably for the best. Just enough time to build up nerve.

Ron felt very distracted at work. He kept losing track of what he was doing and his supervisor reprimanded him more than once. It didn't get any better when he got home. His oldest girl, who had been named after her late aunt, was telling him something but he barely registered a word. She complained to her mother and Hermione gave him an angry look but he hardly noticed. Finally when it was quarter to eight, he stood up and told his wife he was going out and that she shouldn't wait up for him. She said something to him but he didn't catch it.

He had no idea how he got himself to the pub and it became irrelevant when he saw Draco Malfoy sitting at the bar, waiting for him.

"Ready, Weasley?" he asked. "Just follow me, my apartment is just around the corner."

"What, I thought you lived in Wiltshire?"

"You mean the mansion? That draughty old place? No, I much prefer it here in the city."

They exited the pub and Malfoy had been telling the truth, he lived just around the corner. Ron didn't have time to have any second doubts. Before he knew it, he was sitting on a sofa in Malfoy's living room, with a glass of red wine in his hand. Opposite him was Malfoy, now wearing his shirt unbuttoned.

"I was wondering, you haven't been with another man before, have you, Weasley?"

"Started going out with Hermione in our Sixth year. That didn't give me much time to play the field, did it? Certainly not to find it within me to be with boys."

"Yeah, forgot you are a faithful little Gryffindor who needs to find his courage to do things." Ron's lips twitched in response. Malfoy took a sip of his wine and moved over to the sofa. Looking Ron straight into the eyes, Malfoy leaned forward and caught his lips in a firm kiss. It didn't exactly catch Ron off guard, still he couldn't do anything but yield into the kiss, have Malfoy claim his mouth, thrusting his tongue in, grasping his head and pushing him backward down on the sofa. It was so different from kissing Hermione that he couldn't even start to compare them. Everything about Hermione held in it the tenderness of truly loving someone. This, this was raw and strange tasting, hard and needy. And he wanted more. His hands were on Malfoy's shoulders, gripping hard. Their pelvises were lined up and Ron felt the other man's erection press into his groin. He pushed away the initial panicky feeling. Malfoy wasn't flinching away from Ron's own erection. Oh Merlin, Malfoy had just given him a hard-on. It didn't seem that Malfoy minded. In fact he seemed to be enjoying the effects he was having on Ron. Enjoying how wantonly Ron was responding to his every move.

"Weasley, I'd never expect you to be so into this. I thought you were just going to lie there and think of England." Ron groaned in response. He didn't want to be chitchatting now.

"Fuck ... Malfoy ... don't fucking stop."

"If you say so." Draco had now got rid of Ron's shirt and was making his way down his chest with his lips. Where had Malfoy learned to do what he was doing with his lips and tongue? And why were Malfoy's lips giving him goose bumps? This was all so wrong but he couldn't get enough. He arched his back as Draco's lips followed the line of hair that disappeared under his trousers. The trousers became undone, Ron wasn't quite clear if it had been him or Draco who had unbuttoned them but that didn't matter. Just as long the trousers weren't restraining him. As long as he was feeling Draco's hot breath on his skin. He felt his boxers being pulled down. He was becoming completely exposed to Draco's gaze.

"Ah, I see that it's true what they say about blokes with large feet. You must be proud, Weasley." Ron tried to retort but all he managed was a gurgle. Draco chuckled softly and swiftly brought his fingers around Ron's erection. A loud moan escaped Ron's lips as he thrust into Draco's hand. He thrust again harder, feeling that his release wasn't very far off. The novelty of Draco pleasuring him had him rushing towards completion on full steam.

Draco's hand left him and Ron couldn't help but growl in frustration. His growl was cut short though when a wet tongue ran up the underside of his cock. He thought he would explode right then and couldn't for the life of him understand how he was holding out with Draco's hot mouth enveloping him, Draco's tongue running up his length, Draco dipping the tip of his tongue into the slit, licking away the pre-come. He wanted to thrust up into the wet glory of Draco's mouth but Draco was holding down his hips, working his mouth slowly on Ron's cock. Working him slowly into sweet oblivion.

Draco sped up the tempo, taking Ron deep down his throat, loosening his grip on his hips, allowing him to thrust up. That was enough for Ron, couple of thrust and he was coming. Hard. Into Draco's mouth.

When he was all spent, Draco looked up on him, licking his lips.

"Not bad, Weasley, not bad. And you are damn responsive. I like that." Ron looked at him, lying boneless under him, sensing that this was just the beginning.

Draco rose up on his heels and Ron suddenly felt very naked.

"It looks like I'm slightly overdressed." Draco shrugged the white dress shirt off is shoulders and opened the top button on his trousers. He slowly removed his clothes while Ron watched him, feeling his arousal returning by that little private show. It was impossible not to stare at Draco artfully remove his clothes. His sex-appeal stemmed mostly from his movements. The svelte body was indeed a thing to behold but the movements were what mesmerized Ron. Now completely naked, Draco straddled his legs and leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss, then sliding down to kiss his throat. His hard erection pressed into Ron's inner thigh.

"Want me to fuck you, Weasley?" Draco's voice was hoarse. Ron's only answer was a needy moan.

"Want me to fuck you here on the sofa so the covering will burn your knees?" That hit Ron like a thunderbolt, making him shiver all over.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Draco said and then ran his tongue down Ron's stretched throat, gracing the skin ever so slightly with his teeth. Ron felt the sweat already starting to run down his forehead. Whatever Malfoy was doing to him, it seemed to be sparking raging fires at a nerve ending after a nerve ending.

"Turn over, Weasley. Show me that spectacular arse of yours." By mustering together every last ounce of willpower, Ron managed to turn over and away from Draco's talented lips and tongue. They didn't stay away for long though. Ron felt himself being pulled up to his knees and Draco bending over him.

"I bet you are aching for me to fuck you right away. Just plunge into you. But I want you to scream with pleasure, not pain, so you'll have to be patient and wait." The lust-addled brain of Ron couldn't comprehend that there was a need for them to go slowly. He arched up, feeling Draco's cock pressing between his cheeks, fervently wishing that Malfoy would change his mind and just take him then and there. Draco took no heed of Ron's impatience and started a slow decent down Ron's back with his lips and tongue. Ron's knuckles were aching. He was gripping the armrest of the sofa so hard. He had never been good with talking things slow.

Draco had his hands on his arse; Ron felt how the fingers dug into his flesh and knew that there would probably be bruises in the morning. Now it just had him almost growling with lust.

"Weasley, let's see if you are ready to play like a big boy." The next thing Ron felt was Draco's tongue running up his cleft. The alien feeling of a wet tongue there had him flinching at first but Draco was holding him in vice-like grip and the flicks of his tongue soon had him gagging for something more.

"More!" he managed to croak.

"More, you say," said Draco, his voice vibrating on Ron's skin. And he plunged his tongue into Ron's puckered hole. It was hard to tell if the sound Ron let out was a moan or a scream. Draco seemed to be encouraged by it and he stuck his tongue further up and managed to produce again the same sounds from Ron.

"Ready for the second stage?" Draco asked after pulling his tongue out. Ron's only reply was a disappointed hiss. The fact that Draco seemed to be taking his time to move on to this second stage only vexed Ron. He was about to turn around to tell Draco to keep on when he felt something slippery slide up his hole. It was even more intense then having the tongue there. He pushed back slightly and felt Draco adding another finger.

"So relaxed, Weasley? Are you this ready for me? Still, you're tighter than hell."

Draco kept sliding his fingers in and out, while snaking his hand around Ron's hips to stroke his cock. Having Draco's hand on his cock and his finger up the arse almost made Ron come again, right there.

"Hmm, you are close. I should finish this properly. Getting my money's worth. Oh yes, Weasley, you are such an eager little slut. I'm going to fuck you just like the slut you are." Ron shivered as he felt Draco positioning himself. Then he pushed in, only an inch or so at first but then he thrust all the way. This was nothing like anything Ron had ever tried before. He felt full, like every nerve was on overload, like every last fibre of his body was screaming that he was being rammed by Draco Malfoy's cock. This was not pleasure and this was not pain. This was something beyond both those concepts. It was like his only purpose was to feel Draco thrust into him, making everything vibrate with that unexplainable thing.

"Oh, you take it like a big boy, Weasley. I know you are close. Come, come all over my hand." Ron only needed one touch from Draco to come. He trembled all over with his orgasm, clenching around Draco, spilling himself over Draco's hand. And it was enough to drive Draco over the edge too.

It was no longer possible for Ron to support himself up on all four. He slowly slid down on his belly on the sofa and Draco slid down with him, his weight resting comfortably on his back. Ron felt a warm drowsiness filling his boneless body as his consciousness was slipping away.

 

Hermione cracked one eye open. The shrill giggles were unmistakable. Margaret was up and if let unattended, she might cause a small catastrophe or two. Still, it was tempting to stay in the warm bed, catastrophe-inducing three year olds or not. Staying in a warm bed that she had all to herself. All to herself?

She opened both her eyes and realized that Ron wasn't in bed and it looked like he hadn't been there all night. He had mentioned something about going out last night but she had thought that he would return back before morning like he had always done. It was like she had swallowed something icy cold. What if he had found another woman? She was seven months pregnant with twins after all. Maybe he had enough. Merlin knew that she had had almost enough so many times. Slowly she dragged herself out of bed and into the kitchen where Margaret was trying get to the cereal by climbing up on chair she had pushed to the kitchen counter.

"Sweetie, sit down. Mummy will make your breakfast."

"I want Daddy to make breakfast." Hermione sighed.

"Daddy can't make breakfast at the moment." She summoned the cereal box, Margaret's bowl, and the milk. The little girl ate quickly and Hermione sent her into the room she shared with Ginevra to wake up Ginevra (though Hermione knew that her eldest was probably already up, looking at a book). Then she debated with herself if she should bother to make coffee or just conjure it. Conjured coffee never tasted the same but really, it was the caffeine she needed at the moment.

A soft pop noted the arrival of someone in the living room. Hermione took a large sip of her coffee before facing the person who had just Apparated into her flat. It was her husband, looking like he passed out in the gutter. His hair was sticking out in every direction and his clothes were all wrinkled.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Wait, I'm going to show you something." He showed no signs that he would answer her question but put a big bag of something on the coffee table. It made a sort of clinking sound when he put it down.

"What is that?" Hermione had no patience to be playing Ron's games at the moment.

"Thousand galleons. And later today four hundred and ninety thousand galleons will be transferred to our Gringotts Vault."

"Ron, have you lost your mind?" She strode to the coffee table, took up the bag and looking into it. Those were indeed galleons in the bag.

"Where in hell did you get all this money? Tell me, did you rob someone? Or don't tell me. What were you thinking? You have a wife and three children, you can't just go and do something that will get you into Azkaban for sure."

"Relax, Hermione." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I promise this wasn't anything illegal. Sort of."

"What do you mean?" She was getting a bit hysterical.

" I made a deal."

"What sort of a deal? With whom?"

"With Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Hermione repeated incredulously. What on earth had Ron to offer Draco Malfoy that he was ready to pay a lot of money for?

"Yes, Malfoy."

"What do you have to do for him instead? Malfoy doesn't do anything from the charity of his heart."

"I know. I've already ... paid my dues."

"Ron, what do you mean? He didn't involve you in some nefarious plot, did he?" He snickered.

"Nefarious what? Hermione, that's just stupid."

"Then tell me what this all about." This was becoming really annoying, she felt like throwing something at him.

"Sit down then." She obeyed him, feeling nervous. It was impossible to read Ron at the moment. There was a fire in his eyes she hadn't seen for the longest time.

"I met Malfoy a week ago, you know, after you kicked me out. And somehow we got to talk. Really what happened was that he had me confiding in him. You know, about everything."

"Ronald Weasley, are you telling me that you talked about Harry's illness, our money trouble and all with Draco Malfoy?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"And what ... when he heard about our troubles, he was so overcome with charity that he had to give us money?"

"He didn't exactly give them to us. As I said, I agreed to do something."

"Ron, just tell me." Whatever it was, she had to be able to handle it.

"Malfoy offered me all this money to sleep with him."

It was like someone had come and sucked her very essence out. Sleep with Malfoy? He couldn't have ... but he said he had already ... She opened her mouth to say something indignant about how she didn't appreciate jokes like this but all that came out was a scream, full of rage. Ron lost his stony expression at once; it became one of fear in one instance. Somewhere beyond the blood rush that drummed in her ears, she heard that her two younger children had started to cry. There was no way she could deal with two things at once.

"Out, Ron! And never come back. I don't want to see you again." The words came out of her mouth without her thinking about what she was saying. Ron took one long look at her and she saw the tears well up in his eyes but before she could do anything more, he had Disapparated.

 

Draco was lying awake in bed. It had been ages since he had had a night like that. But then again, he had to get his money's worth. Really though. Why had he slept with Ron Weasley? Closeted gays, stuck in make-believe marriages, tended to be not that good since they usually refused to do anything that might cause any marks. That he had experienced. The thrill of Ron Weasley wasn't that he was married. It was that it was Ron Weasley whom he had know since they were eleven and hated for most of the time they had known each other. It was because Ron Weasley was sexy. And it was because when they finally got there, Ron Weasley was simply a great fuck. Draco rubbed his chin. So, was Weasley really gay or bi or was he just easily aroused? It was a pity really that he returned to his wife and children with the promise of a better life for them. For Draco wouldn't have got bored quickly with Weasley like so many of his former lovers. He just had to be content now with thinking of Ron while wanking.

A snake hiss (his door knocker hissed like a snake when knocked) interrupted his thoughts. There was someone at the door. Draco swore, his limbs protesting as he got out of bed. Who in hell was visiting him at this hour?

It was Weasley who stood on his door step. Draco almost opened his mouth to ask him if he was over for more but stopped when he saw the tears rolling down Weasley's cheeks.

"Hermione threw me out and I think it's for good this time."

"You didn't tell her?" Draco surveyed him and it was obvious that he had.

Didn't he know that some things were better left unsaid? Oh, well he just might invite him in. There probably weren't many places where he could go. As he was indicating Ron to step in, he was suddenly enveloped into a tight hug.

"What am I going to do?" Weasley's voice was raw with emotion. Draco was at loss. It didn't need a genius to realize that the man crying in his arms was absolutely devastated but what could he do to help him?

"Erm, Weasley. Now I know for a fact that you didn't get much sleep last night. How about a nap? Then some breakfast or something?" Ron looked up at him and blinked.

"I'm not talking about the sofa. I actually think I need get some Professional Cleaning Wizards to reverse the damage we did to it last night but I have a big bed." Draco beckoned Ron to follow him in the bedroom.

Weasley didn't seem to be opposed to the idea of having a nap. He took off his shoes and his cloak and got into the bed. As Draco was about to exit the room to give him privacy, Ron spoke up.

"Don't leave. Please, lie with me." This took Draco with surprise. It wasn't that he was opposed to have a lie-down. The things was that no one else had ever asked him just to lie with them in bed.

It didn't take long for Weasley to fall asleep. So he had made the right call and besides, he was tired himself and who wanted to comfort someone when naps could be had.

 

***

 

Draco wasn't sure if he had slept for long time when he woke up. Anyway, the reason for him waking up wasn't that he had slept enough. It was because he was feeling very claustrophobic. There was an arm that had been thrown over his chest and a leg draped over his legs. So Weasley there didn't respect personal spaces? He sighed heavily, removed the arm and leg discreetly so the owner wouldn't wake up. Sooner the wife would take him back, the better. Sure, he could have a lot of fun with Weasley for a while but then he would be fed up and where would that leave Weasley? Thrown out to the street again? He suppressed a small chuckle, was he, Draco Malfoy, becoming selfless or something?

There was only one thing he could do. He had to talk to Hermione.

 

***

 

Their front door could use with a coat of paint, he thought as he knocked on the door. There was no impressive door knocker there. There was an impatient "Coming" and then the door opened to reveal a very pregnant Hermione with a little redheaded girl that reminded Draco strongly of Weasley's sister.

"You!" snarled Hermione and proceeded to slam the door in his face but he had anticipated that and Apparated inside before the door would smash in his face. Hermione turned on her heel, looking absolutely livid.

"What, are you here to take back those thousand galleons you've paid?"

"No, not at all. Just so you know, I'm going today to Gringotts and transfer the rest of the money to your vault."

"I don't need your money, especially not if you think you are compensating me for stealing my husband."

"Calm down, Granger or is it Weasley now? I'm not stealing your husband. Just hear me out." Hermione gave him a deadly glare but remained silent. The little girl in her arms was looking curiously at him and peaking from behind a bedroom door, he saw another girl that looked like a miniature version of her mother, except for the red hair.

"You see, I'm by far the richest man in the whole Wizarding World because I was the only one who was smart enough make a deal with the Goblins before the fall of Voldemort. I have much more money then I ever need and I don't want the Goblins to end up with it when I die. So why not give it to someone who needs it? And you can't deny that you need it. Also I say give. Because I was only joking about making your husband sleep with me for the money but he didn't see that I was taking the piss and offered to do it. I never turn down an offer for sex from a handsome guy. So you see, I was helping you."

Hermione looked at him with defiance in her eyes. She hoisted the little girl higher up on her hip.

"That doesn't changed the fact that Ron was ready to sleep with you." Draco snorted, she made it should like he was a Blast-Ended Skrewt or something.

"Honestly, Granger. You are supposed to be the smartest witch of this age and still you fail to realize that your very straight husband slept with me because he loves you and your children more than anything." She took a step back and lifted a hand to her mouth in a surprise. It clearly hadn't occurred to her. Granger, blinded by jealousy? This was actually amusing.

"So can I tell your husband that he can return home? Because I don't fancy having him hanging around, being miserable." Hermione didn't answer him but gave him a small nod. Draco lifted his wand to Apparate but turn to Hermione to say something before he left.

"Granger, I know that you would love to thank me properly but please don't name your child after me. Draco Weasley sounds awful."


End file.
